


Different Ways Of Coping

by Jathis



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: BDSM, Blood Drinking, Comfort, Diego Kerr Created By Nazi-Nurse, Gags, M/M, Rough Sex, Shoe Kink, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:56:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has different ways of dealing with the end of 49b</p><p>This was written because of an ask Punkrockgaia sent to Videntefernandez and is another trilogy but this time with rough insane porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Needs Fulfilled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [punkrockgaia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockgaia/gifts), [videntefernandez](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=videntefernandez).



**Cecil**

Carlos was the perfect man with perfect hair and a perfect face and a perfect body. However…Carlos was not exactly perfect when it came to the bedroom. His cock was amazing, Cecil wasn’t upset about that. The man was of a good size and he certainly knew what to do with it but…

But Cecil wanted more than just a really good lay. He wanted Carlos to be a little…rough. He had once asked if the scientist would indulge him with a little biting during their foreplay. Carlos had looked uncomfortable but agreed to it and when it came time for him to bite Cecil’s shoulder; Cecil could only hiss in annoyance as he just scrapped his front teeth over his shoulder before sitting up, unwilling to actually do a proper bite.

Then he had suggested giving him a slap across the face once in a while. This Carlos had flat out refused to do and Cecil simply bowed his head, unwilling to try and push his lover to do anything that would make him uncomfortable.

Surely dirty talk wasn’t bad, was it? Cecil had asked Carlos to insult him and found that the only insult the sweet man could come up with was that he was “maybe a little too loud”.

He supposed that this wasn’t really that serious. Sure it was something that he  _wished_  could happen in the bedroom but he also wanted to make Carlos happy and so he said nothing more about his wants for a rougher time.

And then Carlos was gone and Cecil was left with no one to even poorly be rough with him.

Or was he?

* * *

**Diego**

Sometimes when he sat back and watched Kevin; Diego thought about torturing and fucking him so badly that he could not walk for several weeks. He would look at that smiling face and listen to that babbling voice and imagine himself grabbing him by the neck, slamming him against the wall as he choked him.

He imagined what kind of screams Kevin would make as he made images on his chest with his cigarettes. He wanted to press the muzzle of his golden gun a little too far into Kevin’s mouth and make him gag around it, the threat of Diego’s finger on the trigger always there.

Diego wanted to call Kevin a slut. He wanted to call him worse things than slut. He wanted to slap him and degrade him, making him lick the heels of his special shoes and worship his legs while they were covered in his specially tailored pantyhose.

And then he would see the way Kevin smiled at him with such adoring eyes and the sensation of guilt would form a knot in his stomach. He knew that he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Kevin, not as much as he wanted to.

Kevin the beautiful. Kevin the devoted. Kevin the most pious man of Desert Bluffs. No, Diego couldn’t do that to him. So he kept his mouth shut and his thoughts private, unable to keep from wishing for the day when he could finally be allowed to act out his wishes on Kevin without risk of destroying him.

* * *

**Finale**

Diego sat back in the chair that was not his own, crossing his legs as he frowned to himself. He was wearing his last best suit, wrinkled and with tears at the bottom of the pant legs. His pantyhose had been repaired several times already but considering he could now never afford to have new ones made for him; Diego was forced to endure wearing and repairing them as much as he could. One of the heels of his shoes had snapped the other day but strong glue and patience meant he could wear them a little longer.

He took a pull on the (cheap) cigarette he held between two fingers, narrowing his eyes at the sight a few feet in front of him. Cecil Palmer; the reason for his downfall and the reason he could not hear Kevin’s sweet voice anymore. He was naked and on his knees, his wrists tied in front of him. A black blindfold was tied around his two human eyes, a simple medical bandage taped over the third on his forehead. His cock was hard and dripping precum already, a tight leather cock ring attached to the base to ensure he could not make himself cum before he was allowed. A metal spider gag kept his mouth wide open, leaving him there with his pink tongue lolling out, saliva dripping from those lips.

Those lips had ruined him.

He stood up with a soft hiss, careful not to put too much weight on the recently fixed heel as he approached the radio host. He ran a hand through soft hair, taking another drag on the cigarette before suddenly grabbing a fistful of hair, yanking his head back. He held the smoke in his mouth as he leaned forward, blowing it into Cecil’s face, snorting as the other coughed and shook his head.

“Tongue,” Diego gave the back of the cigarette a light flick when Cecil obeyed, letting the ash fall onto his tongue. “ _This_  is what caused all of my problems?” he muttered, half to himself and half to Cecil. He took another long drag on the cigarette, letting the smoke flow from his nostrils this time. “A little bondage slut…helped to bring down Strexcorp!”

Cecil let out a distorted grunt of pain as the cigarette was put out just above his left nipple. He let out a whine, blindly nuzzling his face against Diego’s hip. He was panting heavily now, his body shivering in anticipation as he heard the sound of Diego undoing his belt.

“You’re the worst bondage slut I’ve ever seen,” Diego hissed, removing his erection from his pants before looping his belt around Cecil’s neck, tightening it just enough to give the other a fair warning. “If I take that ring off you’ll cum, won’t you?” he demanded. He snorted when Cecil nodded his head a little, curling his upper lip in disgust, suddenly slapping the other across the face, making him let out a shout.

He gave the other cheek a similar blow before grabbing him by his hair, forcing him to keep his head raised, looking down at that now reddened face. “You cost me everything, slut. You couldn’t just keep your fucking mouth shut and fall in line! No, you  _had_  to fuck with me!”

Cecil whimpered as he reached up with his bound hands, resting them against Diego’s hip, steadying himself. His heart was beating hard in his chest, muffled mewls escaping his open mouth as he waited, trying to coax the other to start.

“At least that big mouth is useful for something…” Diego muttered, roughly forcing Cecil down onto his erection. The room was soon filled with the sound of gagging and gurgling, muttered insults and hisses of pain and pleasure mixing together.

And in their minds they were doing this with their real lovers and not each other. With Kevin and Carlos gone, this was as close as either was ever going to get to what they wanted.


	2. Appreciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Kevin share a taste in a certain someone's shoes

He thought that Kevin was the only one to fully appreciate the sight of him in hose and heels. The radio host’s eyes would always grow so big whenever he saw Diego slip into the golden heels and he was down on his knees before Diego even had to give the command, worshiping his legs and his ankles. Sharp teeth and a clever tongue ran over the hose, whimpers of pleasure and excitement escaping him as he looked up at Diego with his adoring black eyes, mewling before bending his head down to worship the heels and toes of his shoes.

It made Diego feel powerful. He was powerful in the business world of course…but there was something about dressing like this, something that made him feel like he could conquer the world by stepping on it with the heel of his shoe and grind it into stardust. He sometimes had the urge to go to business meetings dressed like this, to dare any of the pathetic worms there to say something  _anything_  about it.

But he can’t. He can’t because he knows that’s not how the business world works. It’s not how the  _world_  works because things deemed feminine are deemed weak and he’s thought about trying to rearrange the social order to allow him to dress however he likes without punishment but…but some things just have to be the way they are.

Kevin was the only one to understand and Diego supposed that if one person understood than that was enough for him. For now.

* * *

With a wet pop Cecil pulled himself off of Diego’s softening cock, mewling as he swallowed the other’s semen in his mouth before leaning forward, lapping at his still wet cock to clean it. He was still blindfolded, his hands in tight (cracking) leather binders behind his back. He shivered when he felt Diego’s fingers running through his hair, dull formerly well manicured nails pressing against his scalp.

Diego was looking away absently, frowning to himself as he idly stroked Cecil’s head. He wasn’t even sure why he was rewarding the Night Valian with anything but another blow from the crop held loosely in his other hand, turning his ass a brighter shade of red with every smack whenever he felt Cecil wasn’t quite as well as he could be. Their game however was finished and he kept his eyes away as he waited for Cecil to give the word, ending it and allowing him to untie him and get the fuck out of this poor excuse for a home and…

Cecil ran a tongue over the inside of his thigh where the garter kept the hose in place.

He shuddered and gasped, turning his head sharply to see what he was doing now. He watched as Cecil nuzzled the inside of his thighs briefly, soft mewls and sighs escaping his red and bruised lips before he started to kiss and lick again. His lips moved down his legs lazily, stopping occasionally to suckle on one of the (shoddy and inexperienced) repair jobs given to the old piece of clothing.

Cecil had to scoot himself back a little before he could properly bend down all the way to reach Diego’s shoes. He gave one toe and then the other a kiss, ending in another lick. He was struggling to get at the heels when Diego suddenly grabbed him by his hair, yanking him into a sitting up position. “Ah!”

“Move back,” Diego rumbled, his voice hoarse and soft. Cecil obeyed and he nodded before leaning back in the armchair, lifting up one of his legs to press the toe against Cecil’s head, putting a little too much pressure against that medical bandage and making the other whimper at the pressure against his covered up third eye. The sharp heel of the shoe was against Cecil’s lips and Diego waited, trying to keep his body steady despite his rapidly beating heart.

Soft lips parted, letting the heel slip into his mouth. Cecil licked and sucked on it hungrily, the noises he made on par with the ones he had made around Diego’s cock. There was a whine as the foot was removed but soon ended in a sigh when it was replaced with the other and Cecil was allowed to worship this one too.

“Good little bondage slut,” Diego muttered, trying to keep any hint of praise out of his voice. Maybe Kevin wasn’t the only one who appreciated Diego’s fashion sense.

When Diego was done he removed his foot from Cecil’s face and he stood up, pulling on the other’s collar to make him do the same. He grabbed his hips and turned him around sharply, pressing his back against his chest as he reached down and removed the leather ring fit snug over the base of his cock. “Cum for me, slut!” he snarled into his ear, stroking him rapidly.

“Ahh!” Cecil threw his head back and nearly hit Diego in the nose when he finally came, panting heavily as he thrust himself against the other’s hand, spilling his semen onto his own hardwood floor. “Fuck…”

“You’ve made a mess again,” Diego snorted, ripping off Cecil’s blindfolds to allow him to see again. “Clean it up, bondage slut. I don’t have time to deal with Night Vale messes,” he hissed, removing the binders from his arms.

“Yes, sir…” Cecil whispered, sinking down onto his hands and knees, dipping his head down to lap at his own semen on the ground.

Diego stood there and watched him briefly, frowning to himself as he mentally changed his hair from light to pitch black, imaging sharp teeth instead of flat human ones. He considers fucking Cecil then and there again but finds himself too tired to even make the attempt. He just wants to go back to that filthy dump he calls his new home and think about Kevin

He gives the other’s ass another sharp slap with the crop, dropping it to the ground before going over to where his shoes and pants are waiting for him. He exchanges his heels for the flat shoes and slips his pants on over the hose. He doesn’t give the other a sparing look as he leaves, shutting the door behind him as he goes, his head filled with the sound of giggles and praises.


	3. Unfulfilled And Incomplete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin is hungry and so is Cecil

“I’m hungry…”

Carlos blinked a little at the sudden whimper, sighing to himself as he came to a stop, running the back of his hand over his forehead to keep the sweat from his eyes. He rummaged in one of the pockets of his lab coat tied around his hips and came up with one of the few energy bars he had been keeping there before this whole mess had begun. He broke the bar in half and turned around, offering one half to Kevin. “Here.”

Kevin however shook his head at the offer, wrinkling his nose. “Bleck! I can’t eat that!”

“Why not? We’re in the middle of a desert, I’m not sure it’s really wise to be so…”

“Oh no, friend! I’m not being ungrateful or picky!” Kevin chirped, offering a toothy smile to the scientist, “It’s just…well…”

Carlos cocked an eyebrow, slipping the halves of the bar back into his pocket as he prompted, “just..?”

“…He always fed me…by hand,” Kevin whispered.

“Explain.”

He offered Carlos a shy look then, wringing his hands together as he struggled to find the right way to explain himself. “Well… Sometimes he would bite his thumb or use a knife or a needle and…”

Carlos blinked twice, his brain trying to wrap around this new information. “He fed you…his blood?”

Kevin giggled nervously, nodding his head. “I know you’re not…him. You don’t have to,” he added quickly, wincing a little in fear that the other would suddenly abandon him to wander alone among all of this beautiful sand.

“So…do you call him Seymour?” Kevin stared at him blankly and Carlos couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head, “sorry! That was a dumb joke on my part. But now I have to know; how many times did he do this?”

“Only a few times a week. I don’t really need much. Just…just a little bit. Tasting his blood just…it made me feel stronger,” he confessed.

“How do you know mine will do the same thing?”

“…You wear his face.”

Carlos blushed at this answer, sighing to himself as he looked away, running a hand through his hair in thought. He really didn’t like the idea of feeding someone else his own blood, there was so many things wrong with that scenario his brain couldn’t even begin to list the amount of viruses and illnesses one could get from doing this!

But then he looked over at Kevin over again. The former radio host of Desert Bluffs was just standing there quietly, that awkward smile still on his face, wringing his hands together nervously as he waited. Carlos’ eyes absently went up to the third eye that had been sealed on Kevin’s forehead and he idly wondered why it had needed to be sealed in the first place.

In the end he sighed, raising his thumb to his lips, trying to ignore the way Kevin immediately stood a little straighter, black eyes growing wide as Carlos bit down as hard as he could, his mouth immediately tasting liquid copper. “Here…”

Kevin made a noise of pure happiness, clapping his hands together before reaching out for Carlos’ offering. Gently he took hold of the scientist’s wrist, holding it with both hands before bringing his bleeding thumb to his mouth, running his tongue over the digit to lap at the blood that had already spilled. Soft and warm lips wrapped themselves around the digit to the first knuckle and Kevin was soon suckling, closing his eyes as he moaned.

Carlos couldn’t help but watch in fascination. He blushed at the noises Kevin made, biting his lip as he watched the other sucking on his thumb as if it were something very…well something very sexual instead. He had to wonder if this was some kind of foreplay his double and Kevin indulged in at times.

“Hey…we should get going,” he finally whispered after what felt like an eternity had passed, worried that Kevin would not be able to know when to stop.

He pulled away with a wet pop, flashing Carlos a wide and toothy smile before finally letting go of his wrist. “Thank you…Carlos.”

“Feeling any better?” Carlos asked, staring in amazement at the healed over wound. He would have to ask Kevin how he did that some other time and if he could heal other things besides small cuts.

“I still feel a little…” Kevin stopped himself, biting his lower lip.

“A little..?”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but…I still feel a little…unfulfilled,” Kevin confessed.

Carlos understood immediately and he offered the other a smile that he hoped was at least comforting to him. “We’ll find them again. I promise. I’m sure they miss us just as much as we miss them.”

 

* * *

“Filthy fucking slut!” Diego snarled through gritted teeth. He was bent over the Night Valian, thrusting into his ass at a steady and unrelenting pace, his hips smacking against Cecil’s body with every thrust inside. He kept one gloved hand holding onto the other’s hip, covered fingers still digging into the flesh, already making it start to show signs of bruising. His other hand was further up, pressed firmly against the back of Cecil’s neck, keeping his head down.

Cecil could only whimper and tighten himself around Diego’s cock in response, absently nodding his head as he bit down on the ball gag between his teeth, a fresh line of drool escaping the corners of his mouth. He had been unable to stop himself from screaming out Carlos’ name during their sessions together and Diego had decided that the gag was a better choice instead of just breaking his jaw.

Arching his back, Cecil clutched the sheets of his bed, whining as he tried to rub his own leaking erection against the mattress for some form of friction. Diego had forbidden him from touching himself again, locking his cock in a small chastity cage before the start. Cecil both hated and loved him for this, mewling as he pushed himself back against Diego, hungry for attention, for the need to become complete.

With a snarl Diego pulled himself out, quickly removing the spent condom before fixing his position, stroking himself twice to bring himself finally to orgasm. He hissed and shut his eyes as he continued to stroke his cock through his orgasm, spilling his semen all over Cecil’s back and shoulders, marking him.

He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath before taking a hold of Cecil once again, forcing him to flip onto his back, his caged cock still oozing precum, straining against the metal that trapped it. He reached up and unbuckled the ball gag, letting Cecil gasp for air. “Say my name,” he hissed.

“Please…”

“Say my name!”

“Car…” Cecil let out a scream that was not completely focused on pain, his head snapping to the side.

“Say  _my_  name!”

“Diego…” He hissed and struggled to keep his hands away as Diego removed the cage from his cock, grabbing the shaft and pumping it roughly, forcing the building orgasm out of him, letting Cecil’s semen splatter over his gloved hand and Cecil’s trembling stomach.

He removed his hand as soon as the other’s orgasm was finished, sniffing as he removed his gloves and threw them into a laundry basket nearby. Cecil had taken to cleaning and mending Diego’s clothes now, giving the other one less thing to worry about. He adjusted himself and fixed his pants, picking up his coat hanging from the back of a chair, slipping it on as if he were getting ready to go to work.

Resting on the nightstand was a large washing bowl that had been filled with scalding hot water and a few washcloths. The water had cooled down during the session and was now at a warmth that was comfortable, allowing Diego to grab one of the washcloths and drop it onto Cecil’s heaving chest.

“Clean yourself up. You look like a complete slut,” he snorted. Even Cecil’s idea of after care was warped, needing to be given some kind of order or degradation even while coming down. He lingered just long enough to watch the other shakily sit up to do as he was told and he was out once more.

“…Still incomplete,” Cecil whispered to himself.


End file.
